


Evergreen

by grimoptimist



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (mostly) Canon Compliant, Holidays, Life Day (Star Wars), Star Wars Christmas Special, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:03:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21940150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimoptimist/pseuds/grimoptimist
Summary: "The tune was cheerful, but it was like ginger cake when his mother sang it: sweet, and sharp. She held him close as she sang, and he tried to sing along. Nonsense words mingled with Basic. Evergreen masked the smell of oil and sanitizer. Ben closed his eyes and breathed it in."A series of vignettes from Ben Solo's perspective of celebrating the winter holidays growing up.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Evergreen

**\- 10 ABY -**

The tune was cheerful, but it was like ginger cake when his mother sang it: sweet, and sharp. She held him close as she sang, and he tried to sing along. Nonsense words mingled with Basic. Evergreen masked the smell of oil and sanitizer. Ben closed his eyes and breathed it in. His mother had cleaned every inch of their home -- this year, it was his father’s ship -- and strung fresh branches from each surface. Ben made up stories sometimes of things he saw in his dreams. With the Millennium Falcon’s fading panels decked in greenery and lights, it was like they were all together in one of his imaginary worlds.

Ben remembered this had happened last year, when they were on Chandrila, and perhaps the year before. He had a book from his mother, one of the ancient kinds that doesn’t fit on a datapad, and inside it read “To Ben, Solstice 8 ABY”. He’d puzzled out that middle word only this week, when he’d heard it from his mother.

“What’s Solstice?” he’d asked, as his mother reheated a plate of something Chewie must have made. His parents never made anything good.

“It’s a celebration. The Solstice is the darkest day of the year, so we keep it bright and celebrate that from then on, the days will start growing longer again. That light returns.”

Ben was still trying to puzzle that out. On Chandrila, the winter days were warm and long, and on a ship, a day hardly had any meaning at all. He looked up at his mother. Her eyes were half-closed as she hummed the same tune.

“Mom? What’s Solstice?”

“Hmm?” His mother stopped humming. “I told you yesterday, Ben. It’s a celebration.”

“But we’re in space. It’s always dark in space.”

“All the more reason to brighten it up,” she said, scanning the living quarters as she did.

“So why did we celebrate last year?”

“It celebrates the darkest day on -- on a place that lives in my heart. And I share Solstice with you, Ben, because I hope one day you might hold a piece of it in your heart, too.”

“When can we visit?”

“Where?”

“That place.”

His mother didn’t answer at first, just drew him closer. She kissed the crown of his head. “We can’t.” After a brief pause, she glanced up. “Luke?”

Ben’s uncle stood in the doorway. He didn’t visit often, and this wasn’t even a visit. Dad was taking him someplace.

“Come on, Ben.” Uncle Luke held out a hand. “I think your mother needs a minute.”

Ben reached out to his mother and didn’t understand. She felt like when you miss a step. It was frustrating to not understand. He took his uncle’s hand.

“Uncle Luke, how am I supposed to hold something if I can’t see it?”

“There’s more to the universe than what you can grasp between your fingers.” 

Ben thought of his stories, of all those images of imaginary places that flooded his mind. “Like pretend?”

“Not quite,” said Uncle Luke. “Why don’t you go find Chewie. I think he has something for you.”

It was about that time of year when his other uncle would have something wrapped under the wroshyr tree. Ben ran down the corridor.

**\- 14 ABY -**

Chewie started another chorus of the Life Day hymn -- out of tune, Ben suspected, but he couldn’t be sure. He didn’t have any other version to compare. It hardly mattered. Ben knew every word -- he was as fluent in Shyriiwook as he was in Basic -- but he couldn’t join in. The sounds were hard enough for a human just talking, much less trying to put music to it.

They’d pulled up images of real wroshyr trees on the HoloNet, so Ben knew the branches Chewie lashed together and arranged in a stand weren’t much like the trees on the Wookiee homeworld. Still, Chewie worked with what he had. He gingerly unwrapped a light orb and showed Ben how to hook it to the branches that made a makeshift trunk, snaking their way into the canopy.

Ben took his hand away from the first light orb he’d placed on his own. It shattered on the tree stand. He felt it when the light died, the darkness in its place awaiting reprimand. 

“Be careful,” Chewie rumbled. He held out an arm to stop Ben trying to pick up the shards. “It’s sapglass.”

Chewie swept up the pieces, and when he was satisfied the floor was clear, handed Ben another orb. Chewbacca warbled on.

**\- 18 ABY -**

On Solstice night, his parents would brew mulled chimbak. It was blood red and stung his nose to smell. He’d ask to taste it anyway. Ben knew they’d say no, but he also figured one year, they’d have to say yes. He raced around the diplomatic suite on Kuat, placing Chewie’s light orbs in amongst the evergreen boughs. In their own apartment in Hanna City, his mother would let him light real candles to ward off the darkness. The flames would dance with his breath. He could make them diminish to almost nothing, or grow to threaten the pine needles all around. She said it was too dangerous in the diplomatic suite. They had to be good guests.

Ben could hear the clink of a wine bottle from across the sitting room. He peeked his head into the kitchen as his father emptied the bottle into a pan. His mother was carefully tying up the cheesecloth she’d filled with spices. It wouldn’t be long before the chimbak was ready.

“Ben?” His mother spied him in the doorway. “Have you finished putting up Chewie’s Life Day ornaments?”

“Yes,” Ben said. He gestured to the riot of light and evergreen behind him. “It looks nice.”

“Are you here for a slice of ginger cake?”

“Yeah.” He might be after the mulled chimbak, but that was no reason to turn down cake.

Ben ate slowly. It was the perfect ruse to stay in the kitchen while the chimbak was heated. It must be nearly ready. His mother took a sip and frowned, but she always frowned. “It’s not quite right.” 

Mulled chimbak disappointed her every year, but she kept making it. “Chewie? The chimbak’s ready.”

Chewie’s response rumbled up the hall. “One minute.”

Ben saw his father’s eyes roll before he saw Chewbacca. The Wookiee had tape tangled in his fur.

“Every year,” Han said as he pulled the tape from Chewbacca’s forearm. “Ben, I thought you were going to help Chewie?”

“I said I would! I’m finishing my cake.”

The situation had become delicate. Ben thought Chewie would wait for him before he started wrapping Life Day gifts. Freed from the tape, Chewie accepted a mug of chimbak. Things quieted for a moment. Ben sensed his in.

“That smells nice,” Ben lied. “Do you think I could --”

Chewie’s answer roared over his parents’ unified “No.”

Maybe next year.

**\- 19 ABY -**

“You don’t do anything for winter?” Ben asked. 

Teneka shook her head. “Why should we?”

“Well, because it’s dark, and also to celebrate, uhm, life?”

“Every night it is dark. Shall we mark each one especially?”

“But there’s this one night in winter that’s _super_ dark.”

Teneka put down her fork and cocked her head to one side. “Where?”

“On my mother’s homeworld,” Ben answered.

“What is it like?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yet you bring branches inside every year and exchange gifts?”

“Well, the gifts are really more Life Day.”

“This sounds perfectly absurd. You should ask Master Skywalker if we could celebrate winter here.”

Ben pushed around the muck on his plate. Food at the new Jedi Temple was worse than his mother’s cooking. “Uncle Luke said no.”

“That is a shame. I should have liked to see the meditation room plastered in ferns.” Teneka cleared the last bite from her plate. She never complained about the slop Uncle Luke provided his students. Still, even she said, “I hope the next shipment brings us something new to eat.”

The canteen was full of every Jedi hopeful’s chattering, but the voice in Ben’s head spoke over them all. An image of the landing pad on the Temple grounds flickered in his mind. “Speak of a sarlacc. My uncle’s calling me.”

Master Skywalker was waiting on the platform with his hood up. Master Skywalker always had his hood up. Ben guessed the Jedi thought it gave him an air of authority. Either way he was just Uncle Luke.

“We’re expecting a visitor.”

“The next shipment. Everyone’s waiting for it.”

“It will be here shortly. Leia sent a transmission ahead. It seems someone requested the route.”

Ben tried to still his heart. It had no reason to leap. If his parents were visiting, surely Uncle Luke would have said as much. Solstice wasn’t a time for surprises.

But it was a time for family.

The Millennium Falcon descended into the atmosphere. Ben could see the interior already: dull grey panels covered in green and Chewie’s light orbs strung from the ceiling panels. The smell of evergreen and mulled chimbak overpowering the smoke and leaking coolant of a ship held together more by luck than anything.

He felt his uncle reach out when he made for the descending ramp, but Ben darted forward. The ramp clanked onto the landing pad. Chewie stood at the top. At the sight of the Wookiee, Ben’s training caught up with him. He could be patient. He could be calm. Ben folded his arms into the sleeves of his robe and waited at the foot of the ramp. Chewie disembarked with his arms open wide. Alone.

Ben knew the answer, but asked anyway. “Are Mom and Dad here?” 

Chewie shook his head. Ben’s arms fell to his side and Chewbacca gathered him into a Wookiee hug. Chewie rolled the words of a familiar paean to new life as he produced a haphazardly wrapped parcel.

“Happy Life Day.”

**\- 33 ABY -**

Kylo Ren was not prepared for such an excursion. The snowtroopers guiding him and Hux marched effortlessly over the snow, while his boots sank. He called upon the Force to maintain a little of his dignity. It was some comfort that Hux had no such recourse. 

They were here to survey the base being built into this desolate planet. It would not be long before a great power would arise from this forever winter. A new hope for the First Order. For now it was little more than wide trenches carved into woodland. As they approached, Kylo Ren could see the sparks of welding torches flashing through the pine branches. The clash of metal meeting metal sang out and echoed between the trees.

It smelled of evergreen.


End file.
